House Arrest
by JhariNJanz
Summary: Harry gets accepted into Hogwarts! Great right? Wrong, it becomes a hassle when he is forced to continue to live with his relatives and floo everyday. Trying to hide every bruise and other signs of abuse. But that's not all, there's more. MUCH more!


**A/N:** This is my first (real) Fic. I'd say more, but I really don't have anything else to say. Plus I know you good people don't want to waste time listening to an author drone on and on and on and on-- okay lets move on shall we?

**Pesky Disclaimer:** I do not in any way own this wonderful world of HP! It belongs to the great and deeply admired J.K.R... I just borrow them for now.

**HOUSE ARREST**

_By Janz_

**CHAPTER 1**

"They are doubting to whom my loyalty lies with Albus." Severus Snape politely sat in the chair offered to him in front of an old oak desk that held many memories of the past headmasters and mistresses. An old and weary but still very much alive man sat behind this desk as Hogwarts present headmaster, Albus Dumbledor. The old wizard watched the younger man through thoughtful eyes before nodding.

"It does not surprise me; with Lucius Malfoy acting as leader while Voldemort is away." Dumbledor smiled sadly as his colleague flinched at the name. "Fear in the name causes-"

"Fear in itself. Yes I know Albus." Severus Snape wasn't one of patience, nor was he one for sweets as he wrinkled his nose when the headmaster popped a lemon drop into his mouth. He waited, impatiently that is, as the old man sucked on the sweet. Finally Dumbledor spoke up again, all twinkle gone from his too wise eyes.

"I never once thought Voldemort was dead or completely gone from our world, but I had hoped he would have laid dormant for a little while longer." Dumbledor slowly rose from his seat and opened a small cupboard where his precious pensive lied in. He placed the bowl of swirling memories and emotions onto his desk where he proceeded to extract his current memories into it. "We will have to watch Professor Quarrel closely and see if what the Death Eaters are saying is true."

**oo0oo0oo0oo0oo0oo0oo0oo0oo**

Harry Potter is a boy like none other. While he leads an unfortunate life, he is a special boy. He is a wizard. Not only is he a wizard, but also he is a wizard to have survived a killing curse and one from the darkest wizard no less. Although, however famous he may be in the wizarding world, he is nothing of any sort in the house of Vernon and Petunia Dursley at Number 4, Privet Drive.

Harry tripped over the coffee table and his head bounced off the floor with a loud thud. He hissed in pain, his face scrunched up as he rubbed the already forming bruise on his cheek. "Let that be a lesson boy!" Vernon Dursley stomped from the room but not before yelling over his shoulder "Clean up the mess!"

"Yes Uncle Vernon." Harry's cheeks flushed hotly as he set the coffee table upright in front of the couch. His head was pounding now and his emerald eyes were even brighter with unshed angry tears. Harry replaced the television remote in its rightful place on the table before sneaking into the kitchen to start dinner before Uncle Vernon could find something else the boy had done wrong.

**oo0oo0oo0oo0oo0oo0oo0oo0oo**

"A company wants to buy drills from us. They'll be signing the contract next week if I have anything to say about it." Vernon walked into the kitchen an hour later with the evening paper in his hand ready to be read. Petunia Dursley, his horsy faced wife was currently looking out the kitchen window. Her neck that was twice as long as the average human's enabled her to spy on her neighbors which she was proceeding to do at this very moment.

After nothing out of the ordinary or anything worthy of juicy gossip happened, Petunia turned her attention to her husband while setting the table for dinner. "That's great dear. Dudders, dinner is ready!"

Loud footsteps thundered down the stairs, shaking the house with every step. A very large pig with blond hair was standing on its hind legs and waddling to the kitchen table. Or it would have appeared so at first glance, but a closer look would show not a pig but a very large boy who only resembled a pig. "Mama! My computer broke! I need a new one. And where's the food?" He slammed his fist onto the table with obvious irritation that his new toy broke, causing the silverware to clatter from the force.

Harry, being one who could always sense danger and an on coming temper tantrum, hurried to pull out the roast and quickly place it in the center of the table before returning to drain the green beans of its water and pouring the creamed corn into a bowl. After setting the table and cleaning up after himself, Harry raced from the room. He quietly closed the door to the front lawn just as Petunia's voice carried from the kitchen "Dudders, you just got that computer for your birthday last month!"

Harry knew better than to believe for a second that Dudley was about to be punished. He was never in trouble no matter what he broke; whether it be a rule or toy. Harry on the other hand, always got into trouble. The boy kicked a small stone before squatting down next to the rose bush.

As his now skillful hands worked along the thorny bush, his mind began to wander as it always did. The sun was just setting and it felt nice on his sun burnt neck. Maybe he'd wait and do his gardening in the evening more often. A small humorless smile stretched his lips, his hand unconsciously rubbing his bruised cheek. "Everything has a fee."

How much time had passed, Harry didn't know; it wasn't until he heard "Boy!" did he look up and notice the sun had completely set and Petunia standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. "Get inside and clean up dinner."

"Yes Aunt Petunia." Without another word, Petunia left into the living room where the family always watched the television after dinner. The family except Harry. Brushing off his hands free of dirt and pulling off his shoes at the door to make sure he didn't track dirt, Harry made his way to the kitchen.

"Wha-..." He had known a tantrum was coming on, but this was ridiculous. Harry's green eyes widened at the disastrous sight. There were chunks of roast strewn across the room in every direction; the green beans were smashed into the table and all over the floor under Dudley's chair where he suspected he stomped while ordering a new computer. He was just about to get started when something wet and gooey dripped on his head.

Looking up showed a ceiling covered in what he suspected used to be creamed corn. More dripped down and landed on his nose and glasses. Pulling off his glasses and wiping it clean, he grabbed a washcloth and wiped his nose clean as well before getting to work. Even on a chair he was barely tall enough to mop the ceiling clean of corny muck.

Twice he stumbled off the chair and landed hard on his bum, the chair falling on top of him both time and bruising his shin once. After the ceiling was done, thank God, he proceeded to mop the floor. Stopping only to pick up a few chunks of roast and placing them onto the table. Luckily the floor only took half as much time the ceiling did.

After looking over his shoulder to make sure the Dursley's were still glued to the television, he discreetly rolled up most of the chunks of roast into a napkin before putting it into his pocket. The rest of the roast was for him to eat now, which he did ravenously.

**oo0oo0oo0oo0oo0oo0oo0oo0oo**

Harry did not wake up to his usual rapping and "BOY" from behind his cupboard door, but from a loud screech courtesy of Petunia. Then there was silence so quiet it seemed almost unnatural. "HARRY POTTER!" Harry bolted up from his cot so fast it groaned under him and toppled on top of him as he crashed onto the floor. Boy was one thing, but for his uncle to actually yell out his name, it meant he was in a whole lot of trouble. The boy scrambled out from underneath, frantically wondering just what he could have done to upset his aunt and uncle so much and so early in the morning.

Before he could reach the top of the stairs the door yanked open and a beefy pair if hands yanked him out by the collar of his gray and too large tee shirt that had once belonged to Dudley. He looked from his uncle's furious face to his aunt's pale one with wild green eyes. He noticed a brown feather caught in his aunt's unusually messy blond hair and a crumpled letter in her tightly fisted hand but said nothing. Whatever he did, it would be best for him to keep quiet. At least until he knew just what dangerous waters he was treading.

"Go upstairs and take a quick shower. AND DO SOMETHING ABOUT THAT HAIR OF YOURS!" Vernon cuffed him on the ear once before shoving him towards the stairs. "Make it quick!" Harry didn't even look behind him as he raced, and tripped, up the stairs into the bathroom. He ignored the ringing from his head from his uncle's hand as he stripped down and hopped into the shower. This was the first time in months he was able to shower with hot water. Usually his aunt forbade it and made him use Dudley's old and cold bath water. She'd say, "It's a waste of water." However, little did they know Harry always took hot baths every chance he got, which was very little when they rarely left him in the house by himself.

The boy couldn't fathom just what could had unhinged the Dursleys so much that they would actually let him shower in hot water. Pushing it aside he scrubbed his body clean, rubbing tenderly on the bruised areas. He was just rinsing the shampoo out of his hair when there was a tap on the door. "Your clothes are outside the door. Hurry up!" His aunt snapped before he heard her hurried feet race from the hallway.

Harry quickly dried himself before pulling his clothes that hung on the knob inside. His eyes grew wider. They were his dress clothes and his only nice clothes that he owned. They had been bought from a thrift store, but for him nonetheless. Aunt Petunia had bought them for him for special occasions; occasions they couldn't just leave the "boy" with Mrs. Figgs or let him run around wearing Dudley's cast aways. What was going on? Why would he need this?

"BOY!" Vernon bellowed from the stairs, starting the boy into action as he pulled on his black slacks and white cotton button down shirt. "Coming!" He raced back down the stairs, attempting to flatten his hair down, even though he knew it was a futile battle. Aunt Petunia suddenly grabbed him by the sleeve and swung him to face her. "Hold still" she commanded as she came at him with concealer make up. A few times Harry winced as she covered his bruise on his cheek not so gently. Harry knew the rules of the house, but this was just too much and he had to know. "W-what's going on?" He flinched away from the woman just as she got done. Asking questions were forbidden in this house, and he had learned that the hard way many times.

"Just behave and don't say a word!" Vernon's face was an ugly shade of puce and an inch from Harry's, spitting spittle onto his cheeks. Harry only nodded; he knew what his uncle meant by "don't say a word" and he knew better than to disobey. Whatever that was happening, it was big. And whatever big was happening, it concerned him and only him since Dudley had been told to stay upstairs. This unnerved Harry as the boy fidgeted under his aunt and uncle's detesting stares.

"It's almost time." Muttered a very nervous Aunt Petunia. They stood in front of the door, as if waiting for someone to arrive. Which Harry figured they were. But who? Who could be so important as to come on such short notice and unravel his relatives like this? And involve him no less!

**_POOF!_** The two Dursleys and one Harry Potter jumped a foot in the air as the fire place in the living room burst up into green flames before a very tall and brooding person stepped out. Harry's mouth hung open while Petunia grabbed onto the banister for support and weakly groaned. Uncle Vernon's hand, which had been uncomfortably tight on Harry's shoulder, became slack for a second and then tightened even more than before. But the pain went ignored as Harry could only stare at the very tall person in black..robes? His greasy dark hair fell chin length and curtained his sallow face. His nose was large and crooked like a beak; had Harry not been so afraid, and had he been a rude person (say Dudley for instance) he probably would have thought this a very funny sight.

"'Arry! I'ven't seen yeh since you was a small babe!" The tall stranger's face broke into a terrifying and a rather humorous grin while the black eyes glistened with tears. Now it was funny... and now the boy had a hard time fighting off a fit of laughter.

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